A CYNIC'S GUIDE TO GETTING HITCHED - EPISODE 10

Crashing Realisations

I step closer to the ebbing sea. It’s just a little past midday and the sun is merciless. The tide is way out and I need to feel something other than the searing pain in my chest even if it’s just the coolness of the sea. I stand still; wait for the waves to flow toward me again. When they do, they barely reach my toes.

It ebbs and flows again, this time it tickles my feet and pulls back again. The cool, salty water feels nice. In a few similar movements the sea, almost as if teasing me, finally reaches my ankles and pulls back. I start to feel calm as the water draws in closer each time it comes up to me.

“Come and play,” it seems to be saying. “You’ll be happy here. You came from water; this is home. Come and play.”

I look out over the horizon; water all around for miles and miles, looking more inviting than I remember it ever being. The water is much closer now, edging its way above my ankles. It occurs to me that the sea might feel my presence; that there’s some force in me that pulls it towards me. Maybe it remembers me; reads in my DNA that I used to be a part of it. All life begun in the ocean, I reason, and it is only natural I should be comfortable here.

I start to wonder, if I lay in the water without fighting against it; if I just let the force of the ocean carry my weight would it carry me out to sea or push me back to shore? I suddenly have a strong urge to find out. At this point, what have I got to lose?

I close my eyes, ready to begin my experiment when I feel a strong hand grab my arm.
“Are you ok?”

I stand there, blinking at an older man who is looking worriedly at me. For a split second I can’t remember where I am until I spy the sand somewhere behind him but it’s so far away. Then I come to, suddenly aware of my surroundings again. I am standing in the sea, the water up to my knees and I have no recollection of the time between the water at my ankles and now.

“What are you doing?” The man asks me. “Come back to shore, do you know how to swim?”

It feels like I’m already under water because I can see his lips move, can even hear his voice but I can’t understand him. Back on the shore the man, who seems to have picked up on my intentions asks me,

“What happened to you?”

All the thoughts I was holding at bay with my contemplation of the secrets of the ocean come rushing towards me as the waves crash on the rocky shore.

* * *
THREE DAYS BEFORE

Deladem fights against his being and stops kissing me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, surprised. His shirt is off and my buttons are undone.

“We can’t do this, we shouldn’t be doing this,” Deladem protests.

“What? Why?” I’m panting; all strung up with the promise of what looked like it might be a good night.

“I didn’t come here for this, I came here to tell you something.”

“What?”

Deladem takes my hands in his and holds them to his bare chest.

“I came here to… there’s something I need to tell you.”

“What, Deladem? You’re scaring me”

“I’m getting married.”

It feels like someone pushed me from a high storey building and I crash on the hard ground below, Splat!

My bones are broken, my insides are spilling out of my nose and yet I can feel nothing but the broken rib bone that’s jabbing my heart; causing blood to spill into me, stopping my breathing and slowing my heart beat. Soon I feel nothing; see nothing; hear nothing. Silence.

I am floating on the surface of consciousness; I can hear a voice in the distance calling to me. Then I feel a sweaty palm on my cheek and I am roused awake. Deladem is looking down at me, a concerned look on his face. I fainted.

He picks me up and puts me on my bed. “You scared me,” he says and fetches me a glass of water. I drink and find my voice.

“Please leave, Dela. Please. Go.”

Deladem leaves without protest; he knows he caused harm and his presence will only worsen it.
I roll over in bed and will the tears to flow but they don’t. Tears conduct pain out of the body. For every drop, there is a modicum of pain that recedes, so the more crying is done, the better the chances of recovery. When the tears refuse to flow, then you know you’re fucked because the pain will well up in your body and fester and soon you’ll implode.

I stay awake throughout the night not even trying to sleep; what would be the point? What is the point of anything, really? Everything leads to one thing which leads to something else and then another and finally leads to death. It’ll all end so what’s the fucking point?!

I hear the birds announcing the break of dawn outside my window, chirping without a care in the world. I am wide awake when the sun rises higher and higher in the sky and heats up the earth. I’m not thinking, not feeling, just awake. The last time I heard this symphony, it gave me hope. This morning, though, it’s almost like a cruel taunting; I’m happy, you’re not.

How much pain can one take? How much rejection should one have to suffer?

What’s wrong with me? All these men who choose someone else over me can’t be wrong, there has to be something wrong with me. What is it?

Suddenly the walls start to close in and I can’t breathe. I jump out of bed with a conviction I didn’t anticipate and pull on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and leave my apartment, not knowing where I am headed I just walk and before I know it, I am at the beach.

* * *
The older man asks me again what is wrong. The sea breeze is getting stronger and keeps carrying away his words. He gives up and gets up to leave, earnestly admonishing me to stay out of the water.

I don’t need the water anyway, what he doesn’t know is I’ve been sleeping at the beach for three days now and every day at the same time I walk out into the ocean like I just did and always come back to shore. I haven’t had food or water. I don’t even feel hungry. I’ll just go to sleep again when the sun goes down and with any luck, I won’t see the sun rise.